Monsoon Night
by frustratedstudent
Summary: Eponine has a habit of forgetting to bring an umbrella, even in the middle of the rainy season. Modern day AU


_A/N: Modern day E/E (in the same timeline as the Manila AU or short fic "Cities We Call Home") . Do not own the characters. Inspired by this bit of verse Sabrina wrote: _

"_He comes to me in flames,_

_And I melt in front of the fire_

_I become a wet puddle of desire_

_That he slips and falls in until he's drenched"_

**Monsoon Night**

She's the one who always forgets to bring an umbrella, which is not a good thing in a city that was once dubbed the "Venice of the East", and may as well earn that distinction once again due to its propensity for flooding. She's the one who makes a run for it every night, hoping to traverse the six blocks between the train station and their apartment before the night time showers soak her thoroughly to the skin.

It's already ten in the evening on this Friday night. If it weren't raining, the hour would be considered a little too early to head down to the lighted cafes and smoky hotspots so ubiquitous in this part of Manila but also too late to be wandering about alone. Tonight Eponine makes sure to kick off her sodden sneakers, already cursing the fact that she's going to have to put them in the wash before they start to reek and her roommate will have every right to protest about it. '_How much would a good pair of foldable overshoes cost?' _she wonders as she walks barefoot to where her slippers are still poking out from under the coffee table. She's been hearing that they're finally catching on as a step up from the usual 'tie shopping bags over your shoes' trick. The feel of the cool but firm flooring under her feet is comforting; it may not be the plushest or most luxurious thing but it is safer than asphalt, surer than concrete, and certainly far safer than all the mud waiting outside.

As she shrugs off her green denim jacket she hears the sound of the elevator reaching the corridor, followed by the almost imperceptible whoosh of the door opening. She smiles, knowing that once again someone has followed through on his promise to come home at a decent hour.

She turns just before the apartment door opens. "You lucky jerk," she greets the young man who is looking at her with a knowing smirk. It does not help that he is dressed to the nines again, having chosen his best suit because of a crucial meeting with some sponsors for the organization he works with nowadays. "Why is it you always remember?"

"Because I keep this by the door," Enjolras replies smugly as he sets out his still wet umbrella in its proper spot just six paces from the door. He takes off his coat, crosses the room and kisses her; in other circumstances this would be a simple and chaste greeting between them, but the way his eyes meet hers tell her that no, propriety isn't exactly on his mind tonight. "You should wash up and dry off-"

"Not yet," she whispers as she steps even closer and presses her body up flush against his. She knows that he likes it when she does this and that he doesn't care that she is getting rainwater all over his good clothes. She captures his lips with hers as he slips his arm around the small of her back to hold her where he wants her. He tastes of coffee as usual; it's not sweet as opposed to downright intoxicating especially when combined with this sort of proximity. Her callused hands make a slow trail up the back of his neck to tangle in his hair. She hears him moan softly as she tugs on the silky strands that are now entwined around her fingers. The sound of him slowly losing his perfect self control only encourages her to break their kiss only to brush her lips over the hollow of his throat. His breath catches a mere moment before his free hand makes its way to the v of her neckline, tracing ever closer to the first button of her shirt.

Eponine closes her eyes for a moment to relish the feeling, knowing that his hands are always a prelude to his lips. "It's not a storm out there now, isn't it?" she asks warily.

Enjolras pauses to kiss that spot under her right earlobe. "No typhoon signals tonight."

"Good," Eponine says as she brings her hands down now to begin undoing his red necktie so she can fling it to the floor. She's never liked typhoon season; as a child it always meant risking losing 'home' to either leaks or floods, or nights spent curled up under barely there eaves or in church doorsteps. Nowadays storms mean much to do for her as a social worker in training since there will always be some hamlet or colony devastated by a sudden rise in a creek or just a local drainage. Storms also bring Enjolras away from her since much of his job involves coordinating disaster relief. She shivers involuntarily as she remembers that last big storm, that one which had him spending more than a month at the disaster site. Inasmuch as she admires him for what he does, she does not relish the idea of being separated from him again for such a length of time.

Perhaps he is thinking of this too, judging by the way he plants a hot line of kisses down her neck. He lingers over her collarbone when he feels her breathing quicken under his lips. All the while his hands are deftly trailing lower, making short work of the buttons of her shirt till he can finally ease the wet garment off her shoulders. She hisses sharply at the feel of cool air hitting her bare skin before his lips begin their descent from her collarbones towards the tops of her breasts, tracing gently over a scar that runs over her sternum. It is almost dizzying, almost too much, and she whimpers his name as she clutches at him more tightly in order to seek some sort of handhold in this maelstrom. All the while they are clumsily trying to step towards the bed at the far end of the apartment, but they are only halfway there when gravity takes over and they find themselves on the floor.

Enjolras pulls away from her in order to prop himself up on his elbows as he looks into her face. His clothes are wet now with his sweat mingling with the rainwater on her skin. "I was going to tell you earlier that I've been offered a transfer from the field office," he says in a low voice.

She swallows hard, already bracing herself for the dreadful thing he will say next. Suddenly she feels the chill from the floor seeping into her skin and she shivers again. "To where?"

"The public policies and lobbying office. It's right her e in Manila," he replies as his normally stern face brightens up with a boyish grin. He touches her face as his eyes grow dark with worry. "Eponine is there something wrong?"

It is at that moment that Eponine lets out a breath she doesn't even know she's been holding. "When you said 'transfer', I thought for a moment that we'd be doing things long distance again like what happened last year," she admits.

"You always hated that," he says, gently kissing her brow.

She sighs by way of agreement. As independent as she is, it doesn't change the fact that she simply _wants _him around, and there is no shame in admitting the fact. After all she can never be anything but honest with him. She slips her hand into his before speaking again. "Are you sure you want to do this, Enjolras? I know you like being on the field and travelling."

"Travelling to remediate and fix problems when it's usually too late."

"You always found that bit frustrating."

"Especially since there is something more lasting that can be done to avert those crises."

"That is so _you_."

Enjolras smiles more teasingly as he kisses her forehead. "Well then since I'm going to be in the city full time now, you're going to get sick of seeing me."

"Never," she says, bringing her mouth almost against his so he can feel the words as well as hear them. "I could never get tired of you, ever," she whispers as she runs her hands over his shoulders. She knows it will be a bit of an adjustment for him and perhaps as well for her; it will be quite a challenge to wake up to each other for all seven mornings in one week. Nevertheless it also means that he'll be around to see her graduate with a master's degree, he'll be able to attend every big occasion their friends have planned for this year, and he'll finally have the opportunity to spend weekends with her and be reacquainted with this ever changing metropolis.

All the wonderful possibilities, or rather, probabilities flying through Eponine's mind are impossible to completely verbalize so she settles for kissing him again. Somehow she nearly ends up tearing off his shirt even as his nimble fingers make short work of unclasping her bra. He kisses her gently as she begins to fiddle with the buckle of his belt, and as her fingers brush over his groin he groans and pushes himself against her hand. She smirks at the feel of his hardness in her palm and so she quickly removes his belt and pulls down his pants and his boxer shorts to help give him some relief. She half expects that he will take her right where they are but instead he scoots them both towards the nearest soft spot they could find, which happens to be a rather old and rather stretched out beanbag.

"Nice choice. This thing is almost like a bed," she jokes as she gets comfortable on the dilapidated seat.

"We probably should get some new seats," he suggests.

"Yeah. I think that on some _other _nights we'll be having everyone here more often," she says. She guides his hand to the waistband of her jeans; she's going to need help shimmying out of them thanks to the nasty way the wet denim has been clinging to her legs. Thankfully he gets the point and he unbuttons her pants and quickly slides them off her, followed immediately after by her underwear. She rewards him by pulling him on top of her, kissing him hungrily as his hands settle firmly on her hips. She moans with gratification at the contact, only to end up gasping with surprise as one of his hands suddenly dips between her legs to begin teasing her the way he likes to do whenever they are together like this. She feels his fingers pressing firmly at her center, moving in circles just slowly enough to gradually tighten that knot of heat building within her. "Please, please, just _let_ me already," she whispers through gritted teeth even as she can feel as if her heart is pounding in her ears as the clenching within her becomes nearly unbearable.

"Whatever happened to being patient?" Enjolras quips as he gives her a light, almost too gentle kiss on the corner of her mouth.

Eponine shakes her head as she brings one hand up to tangle in his hair again, clutching tightly at his damp, unruly curls. "It's impossible with you."

He chuckles before capitulating with a kiss on her neck even as he positions himself to enter her. The friction between their bodies is as exquisite as the full feeling of his length buried so deeply in her core, and she cannot help but cry out his name even before he begins to thrust in and out of her. She shifts to allow him to also get more comfortable on the seat, or at least so he can somehow keep his knees off the unforgiving floor. All the while she is running her hands up and down his back, enjoying the feel of his muscles flexing with every movement of his. He groans her name into her still wet hair as he feels her clench even more tightly around him. The very sound is enough to push her over the edge and she grabs at him desperately even as her vision goes white. He kisses her roughly as he follows soon after, spilling himself into her as he moans into her mouth. He drops his head onto her breasts as she throws an arm over his back, both of them too shaky and sated to move off the floor.

It is the gentle, irregular pounding on the roof and windows that slowly brings Eponine back out of the haze. "It's raining again," she whispers, rubbing her lover's shoulders gently.

Enjolras lifts his head before inching over to give her a lazy kiss. "I hope you did not have any plans of going out tonight."

"I'm always amenable to a change," she says with a grin. "I haven't had a Friday night just with you in quite some time."

"That's true," he concurs before kissing her earlobe again. "Shower first?"

She rolls her eyes and laughs as she lets him help her to her feet. "As if we weren't drenched enough already," she quips as she kicks their clothes aside and then follows him. It is their unspoken accord now that the night is still quite young after all, and so are the rest of the days to come.


End file.
